


The Fortune of One Thief

by creative_frequency



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Prince Ardyn, Romance, Solheim AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creative_frequency/pseuds/creative_frequency
Summary: A chance encounter at the local bazaar could change your life forever.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Find all my ffxv stuff at [creative-frequency.tumblr.com](http://creative-frequency.tumblr.com)
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You stroll casually around the busy marketplace. It’s early in the morning, but the place is already packed with people: Merchants loudly trying to sell their goods, servants running around to gather everything for their masters’ breakfasts, mothers with small children still clutching to their chests – there are people of all ages from every social class and status.

The air is thick with the smell of spices, traditional dishes and animals. Rays of sunlight, visible thanks to the lightly smoky atmosphere, perk through the holes in the canopies. The chatter of people, sounds of animals and clatter from pots and pans form a pleasant background noise. This is your setting and you breathe it in like it was lifeblood for you.

People are usually too busy to focus on you besides the occasional glance. Your clothes are simple on purpose: earthly colors, covering and no adornments. You have hidden your hair under a rag that is folded into a simple hat to shield you from the sunlight.

The only special thing about your garments is the deep pockets inside.

A bracelet here, a piece of expensive fabric there, an apple (you still need to eat breakfast) and someone’s accidentally dropped scarf – there isn’t anything your quick eyes don’t notice. Finding an abandoned purse on the ground means a celebration in the evening.

You only steal as much as you need in order to stay alive. The busy bazaars cater the people of Solheim and growing up you found out they would provide for you too. As shameful as it was, you soon were forced to realize stealing was better than dying from hunger.

As you scan the mass of people around you, a bright shimmer catches your eye. Automatically, you begin to pace towards the source. Your steps need to be leisure, but quick enough to not appear suspicious. Such glints are rare. Most people are sensible enough to leave their jewelry home, unless it’s permanently attached into their bodies. You’re not the only pickpocket in town.

The glint shines again and you fixate on the person from who it came from.

He is wearing a cape, but there is a noble’s outfit beneath it. The amount of shining decorations embedded into the clothing makes your eyes widen. It seems like he is alone, but to be sure you decide to follow him for a moment.

He doesn’t seem to notice you as he browses through the market stalls in no rush. Just as you decide to go with the classical “bump and run,” he dives between the stalls into an alley that leads away from the area.

You curse mildly, weighing the available options. A straight out mugging isn’t really your style and you don’t need the trouble that potentially comes with it. You turn on the corner after him, but before you can fully decide what to do or even see your target, someone grabs you from the shoulder and your back thuds against the brick wall.

“What the–!” you squeal, but go silent immediately at seeing an exposed blade in front of your face and a pair of hard amber eyes staring straight at you.

“Why are you following me?” the man asks.

He has a vibrant wine-colored hair that was before hidden under the cape’s hood. It looks clean and soft, the curls float in the air gracefully. His clothing is dark, but etched with intricate buttons and adornments. The fabric looks more expensive than anything you’ve ever seen.

When you don’t reply straight away, he moves the dagger a bit closer, drawing your eyes back up.

“Ah, I wasn’t!” you lie with a straight face, but it doesn’t look like he is buying it.

“Are you an assassin?” he asks sternly, underlying anger in the tone.

_What?_

The question is so absurd that you start to laugh uncontrollably, the reaction probably a poor result from being threatened with a blade. A blade which, you notice, has jewels on it.

The auburn-haired man looks lost for a second and his grip from your shoulder loosens and he lowers the dagger.

“I apologize,” he says sincerely and looks mildly distraught. He would never have raised his blade against a lady, if he hadn’t thought she really was after his life.

You draw in short, wheezing breaths, trying to contain the sudden burst of merriment. This was not how you imagined your day would go.

“The fault is mine,” you say quickly, eager to be rid of him before he changes his mind about using you as a pincushion, “I’ll be on my way now then.”

You try to slip past the man to continue your daily activities, but he stops you.

“Wait.”

In that moment, you weigh between the worth of the buttons in his jacket and running back to your comfort zone. They could be laced with gold, or they could even _be_ golden. Doesn’t take much more thought for the buttons to win.

“Yes?” you turn to ask, glancing towards the dagger still in the man’s hand. He notices your wary look and sheathes it immediately as an offering of peace.

“Do you… live here?” he asks hesitantly.

Assuming he means the part of the town, you nod once and wait to hear why he is asking such an obvious thing. Ah, right. It’s probably not that obvious to a noble.

“I’m Ardyn.” He extends his hand in a surprisingly civil greeting.

You stare at it, his face, the hint of a smile on his lips and then the hand again before taking it and telling him your first name. He looks like he is waiting for you to say something, but you have no idea what, so you just continue slowly backing away from situation. Or at least out of dagger reach.

“I did have a request,” Ardyn blurts out and you halt. He is acting strangely, but the sudden hesitation compared to his earlier actions is almost endearing. You decide to humor him – for a fee, of course.

“Which is?” you ask warily. You haven’t been the target of noble men abusing their power, but you’ve heard of poor girls who were not so lucky.

He makes a motion towards the marketplace. “Could you show me around?”

You look at him suspiciously. What an odd request. What makes him think _you_ are a capable tour guide?

“Why?”

Ardyn clears his throat and takes a step towards you, attempting to reach a comfortable conversing distance. “I’ve never been here before.”

“You seemed to get around just fine earlier.” You fold your arms on your chest.

Ardyn cocks a brow and an amused curve forms on his lips. “So you _were_ following me.”

“I… well… I wasn’t…”  You furiously try to think of a good excuse now that the coeurl is out of the bag.

Ardyn’s smile only widens and he offers an arm for you in a gentlemanly manner which you’re not at all accustomed to.

“Fine,” you sigh, “One moment.”

You take off the rag covering your hair, letting it loose and comb it down with your fingers. There is no point in trying to hide yourself when you’re going to act completely decent like a perfect law-abiding citizen. You throw the rag around your neck and hesitate a second before taking Ardyn’s arm.

Soon you find out the man has absolutely no idea about the workings of a normal marketplace. He is positively astonished at the marvels you show him: the street food vendors, the stalls selling the best fruits and vegetables, the high piles of colorful spices and the weapons shop hidden in the side alley.

You don’t talk about anything besides general things. You don’t exactly feel comfortable letting a noble know you steal for living; especially since he seems to trust you not take him into a backstreet to be robbed clean.

Ardyn takes the silent hint and doesn’t ask any personal questions, but nevertheless, his identity burns your curiosity. There must be only a handful of people rich and stupid enough to stroll into a public marketplace in such garments. You casually warn him about pickpockets, but he assures he has nothing worth of stealing on him. You agree while side-eyeing the buttons on his jacket and the intricate dagger on his belt.

“THERE! There she is! That’s the thief!” All of a sudden someone is screaming right behind you and your day is ruined.

You swiftly turn to see a vaguely familiar-looking woman. She looks _pissed_.

Before you can fully react, thanks to Ardyn’s distracting presence, the guards are already closing in on your position. Were it not for him, you wouldn’t have lingered for long enough to be recognized.

“Come on!” You grab his hand against your better judgment and drag him between the endless rows of market stalls. Moving forward is slow in the crowd, but you resolutely aim towards the narrow alleyways that lead into the poorer districts. There are your best chances of losing the guards.

That is until a sharp “Halt!” pierces the air.

A guard steps in front of you, but before he can even lift a finger, he quails and drops to his knees on the ground. Not one to look a gift chocobo in the mouth, you hasten your steps, still pulling Ardyn with you.

“Almost there,” you say more to yourself, head rapidly turning to scan both sides of the crowd to make sure no more guards are in the vicinity.

Just as you reach the head of the alley, two more guards jump in front of you, blocking the way. More pour from the sides like ants to a sugar bun. The people quickly clear out, leaving a wide berth for the royal guards to perform their duty, though most of the crowd stays to watch the show.

You turn to notice Ardyn’s hood has fallen down while you were making your desperate escape.

“He has nothing to do with this–” you begin, but Ardyn shushes you with a reassuring look on his face. He steps in front of you, shielding you out of sight for most of the guards.

“Stand behind me,” he murmurs in an unexpectedly calm tone.

“Hi-Highness!” the soldiers yelp, but recover quickly from the shock. “That woman is a thief!”

Your heart is hammering and your breaths are short. The option of running as fast as you can is seriously tempting, but you decide to trust Ardyn – your gut says it’s a smarter thing to do than the alternative. You clutch to the back of his cloak. The judgmental stares from the surrounding people feel worse than the fact that you’re about to get arrested.

Wait. _Highness_?

There is only one reason the soldiers would hesitate like that.

You stride around Ardyn in three steps to see his face. “You’re the prince!” you gasp accusingly, completely disregarding the bemused soldiers and the crowd murmuring excitedly around you.

“So you didn’t recognize me after all. And here I thought you were just playing along to be nice,” he says in amusement and looks inappropriately delighted.

“You– this is _not_ funny!” Your protests fall on deaf ears.

“Your Highness, that woman is a criminal and we need to arrest her!” The guards don’t dare to step closer since a member of the royal family is apparently against seizing you.

The chatter from the crowd increases in volume. All eyes are on the prince of Solheim and you can’t believe the situation you are in. Anything could happen next and you don’t like that. You like familiar and predictable; situations that you can control.

“Where is the person she stole from?” Ardyn asks in an authoritative voice. He looks sharply around.

The people gradually fall silent and soon a handful steps forward. You facepalm internally as you recognize many of them. Maybe you had not been as unperceivable as you thought.

“Hey, I didn’t steal from you! Your bread tastes like burnt oil,” you snap to a middle-aged man and he quickly backs away into the crowd. Probably thought it was worth a try. All the other people… well, you might have stolen something from them over the years.

Ardyn glances at you as if saying “ _really?_ ” and gazes around at those who demand your head on a plate. “The Crown will compensate your losses. Now leave her be.”

And just like that, you are absolved. Perhaps not in everyone’s eyes, but who cares about the grumpy merchants and stuffy nobles.

The soldiers look at each other in confusion. “B-but your Highness–” one of them dares to speak.

Ardyn raises a hand to motion that there is no room to argue. “Leave us.”

The crowd is silent and still for a while before starting to scatter, and people continue on about their businesses. The disappointed murmuring begins.

You can’t stop staring at your savior’s face. He looks like a completely different person from the one you’ve been scouring the bazaar with; stern instead of jovial, commanding and not curious. You can’t decide whether you have the worst luck in Solheim or the favor of the goddess Eos, but damn if that wasn’t a close call just now.

“Shall we?” Ardyn says when he notices the bewildered look on your face.

You blink. You were sure he would take his leave after such an incident.

“B-but– where to?”

Doesn’t he really care about being seen with a _thief_?

Ardyn shrugs. You take the offered arm before he can revoke the invitation. He lifts the hood back on with his free hand.

Shortly afterwards the people no longer pay attention to you. The morning is turning into a day and the place is quieting down. You glance at Ardyn. What just happened? Did a prince just rescue you from getting arrested? You would be thinking about that for the rest of your days.

“Are you hungry?” Ardyn asks. The delicious smells are still wafting about in the air. You haven’t eaten anything besides the stolen apple in the morning.

“Always, but let’s make one thing perfectly clear now,” you say. Is the prince really that considerate? You squint at him. A giddy feeling is gaining foothold inside you, making your stomach feel uncomfortably light. You can’t believe you’re holding the prince’s arm. How did he just pop into your trivial existence like that?

He motions you to continue. “I’m listening.”

“If you want something from me, now is the time to confess,” you say as meaningfully as you can. You can’t believe what you’re trying to imply to the freaking crown prince, but it can’t be helped: he is still a man and you’re not eager to be reminded of that. It’s better to learn sooner than later.

Ardyn quirks a brow at you, looking incredulous. “You already gave me the tour, so I only wish to repay that.”

You examine the look on his face before replying. “I see. Fine then. I’ll let you treat a lunch for me.”

Ardyn laughs. The shakes of his body carry through the arm you’re holding and the feeling makes you smile. You move to walk a little closer to him and while the last of the doubt settles inside your heart, a whole another feeling takes over.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“What was that now?” Ardyn turns to you in question.

He heard you perfectly well, you know it. He is just messing with you.

“I said ‘let’s go through’.” You nod towards the arc that leads into a nicer part of the town from the bazaar area. You figured the prince probably wouldn’t want to get food from a street vendor. Besides, you would be insane to miss the chance to get _proper_ food, cooked by a _real_ chef. Ardyn probably knows this, but he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re trying to slightly take advantage of him.

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs.

He feels you flinch, but you play it off like nothing happened.

After a short walk, you stop at the first place that looks like it serves food. “Is this suitable for you, _Ardyn_?” You pronounce his name with weight, emphasizing the fact that you refuse to call him “Highness” despite now knowing who he is.

He smirks. “If it suits you, _my lady_.”

You inwardly groan at realizing how Ardyn has a way of always topping whatever you say. You don’t turn to look at the gloating smile on his face lest your heart would start to race again. Falling into casual bickering seems shockingly easy with the prince. Who would’ve thought the next king of Solheim was such a little shit?

You halt before stepping inside. “Hold up.”

You take the covering, dull brown robe off along with the extra scarf. Underneath you have your usual clothes: light trousers and a tunic. You’re dressed like any other young woman in the poorer districts, though you’re glad you have washed your clothes in the past week.

A bracelet falls from the pocket as you fold the robe and Ardyn picks it up. He examines it with furrowed brows and the look he shoots at you makes your insides coil in shame.

You snatch the piece of jewelry back. You were going to sell it to have food on your table on the following day.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say more harshly than you intended. In your hurry to look away, you don’t see the sad expression that flashes through Ardyn’s face. You hate being pitied on. Especially by someone who has everything. It’s easy for him to look at you like that.

Shrugging the dark thought away, you quickly fold the clothes into a neat bun that is easy to carry. Ardyn holds the front door open for you and you march inside.

It takes ridiculously short amount of time to have the table filled with all sorts of delicacies. You can’t even name most of them. Moving around with a prince really has its perks. With childlike enthusiasm you try out every dish, each time asking your companion what it is. Ardyn is not really knowledgeable about cooking, but he makes good guesses.

It doesn’t _feel_ like you’re spending time with the crown prince. It’s the same as walking around the bazaar before you even knew who he is. Ardyn is quick to laugh at your stories and genuinely curious about your life in the city. Hearing about your difficult past makes his jaws clench momentarily, but when you shrug it off as “It’s just life,” he doesn’t inquire any further.

When the topic turns into your latest adventure, Ardyn clears his throat. “There is something I wanted to say.”

Your mouth is full of food so you mumble incoherently in an inquisitive manner and try to chew faster in case he expects you to talk.

“You were trying to save me at your own expense. I appreciate that,” he says in earnest, graciously disregarding your terrible table manners.

You scoff lightly and swallow. “Well, you just got pulled into it because of me, so…”

Ardyn looks mildly uncomfortable. “And you wouldn’t have been caught had you not humored my request. I apologize.”

You point at him with a piece of sliced vegetable that has been fried in something sweet and shake it angrily. “While that’s probably true, I still owe you. I would be in some dark dungeon now if it weren’t for you.”

“Maybe... If you truly think that, would listen to a proposition of mine?” Ardyn asks slowly as if the idea is only just coming to him. He has long since stopped eating and is just watching as you gorge the food down like a bandesnatch. Must be a charming view, you’re sure.

“Go on.” You urge him by shaking another vegetable slice.

Ardyn waits a short moment for the maximum dramatic effect before speaking:

“I would like to invite you to stay in the palace.”

Say _what_ now?

“Whoa, I like straightforward, but don’t you think it’s a _little_ too early? I mean, I don’t even know what your zodiac sign or favorite color is.”

You blurt the words out to hide your real emotions. You feel like crying from the kindness that radiates from Ardyn’s words. You have done absolutely nothing to deserve an offer like that. The underlying shock is well hidden from your features, but with your crimes forgiven, belly full of warm food and an unexpected friend sitting on the other side of the table, your heart is about to burst from the gratitude you don’t know how to show.

Ardyn sighs in exasperation. Now that is a reaction you’re used to getting from people.

“I’m serious,” he says.

You shake your head. “You would invite a thief into a royal palace. You must be out of your mind.”

Ardyn stares at you so intensively that it’s starting to make you feel awkward. You’re still trying to eat, but your appetite is trying to run away.

“I think you are special,” he says in an even tone, “If that makes me senseless, then so be it. But maybe no one else has seen it in you before.”

An uninvited wave of heat settles on your cheeks. It feels uncomfortable, so you focus on the food. “You’re making me blush,” you mumble.

“I can see that.”

You don’t want to look at the prince while he is waiting for a straight answer. Is it a trap? It sure sounds way too good to be true and your whole life has been about beating that one thing into your thick skull: If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

“Why me, really?” you ask and slowly pick up a fancy meatball.

Ardyn chuckles and lets his gaze wander around the walls. “You treat me the same as you treat everyone else.”

“…I didn’t steal from you.”

His amber eyes snap back into you in shock. “That’s not what I meant! Oh, gods–”

The sound of your innocent laughter permeating the room makes him realize you’re just teasing him.

“I know, I know. But seriously – _you_ are deluded.”

Ardyn bows his head. “I rest my case.”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling and puff in amusement. “Don’t you have to, uhh, think about the public image? People would be outraged at learning you took a pickpocket in,” you continue, but your words of objection are feeble. You’re only saying it because you feel like you should.

Ardyn leans back in the chair and sighs while looking at you. “Okay then”–he spreads his arms–“Maybe you’re right.”

Your stomach drops and your smile falters.

“Let’s put it this way: I’m offering you work–”

You glance up and down at him with a cocked brow. “Sorry, prince, but I’m still not interested–”

“–as a servant in the palace.”

“Oh.”

You take a bite out of the meatball and chew it in silence for a moment, but taste nothing. Your heart is beating insanely fast and you’re afraid to look at Ardyn again. What are the odds? The thought almost makes you laugh. While it seems that he really has no _interest_ in you, there must be a catch to his offer.

“So what does that mean? I’m at your beck and call around the clock?” you clarify.

“Not necessarily. If you like, you could work in the kitchen? Or the stables? Wherever you wish.” Ardyn sounds hopeful.

You curse his sincerity. He is literally offering you a new life. How could you refuse? How could you in good conscience go back to how you have been spending your days so far, only striving to stay alive with nothing to give or gain to anyone?

You inhale deeply and blow the air out slowly.

“Alright then,” you say and delight brightens Ardyn’s face, “but on one condition.”

“Do tell.” He smiles.

“You’ll come see me sometimes. You know, just to establish dominance over my colleagues. Knowing the prince can’t hurt in any job,” you say with a straight face and continue shoveling food into your mouth.

Ardyn laughs. “My lady, we have an agreement.”

The fond look he gives you makes your heart only beat faster. While aiming for a normal smile, you look into those amber eyes and find yourself excited for a whole other reason than getting out of the slums.


	2. Part Two

You have always liked animals, especially chocobos – those strong and gallant mounts of the knights in old tales – but you never ever paused to think about how much _work_ it would be to take care of one, let alone three. Not before you actually had to do it.

Ardyn keeps his promise, all of them really. You get your own room from the storehouse in the palace grounds. It’s not as fancy as the ones inside the palace, but you prefer the peace and quiet compared to sharing a room with the other servants. The place has a certain charm and independence about it, and you are more than happy to retain your freedom. While the building is well-maintained, no one has lived there in years. Apparently, it was built for the night guard of the property and in modern times has become dormant.

For the first time ever, your life has strict daily routines and responsibilities, but most importantly, you have money to take care of yourself. You can buy things, clothes and food for yourself without worrying about the next meal.

Looking after the royal mounts is as fun as a palace servant’s job can get, but the regular income and an un-leaky roof above your head are serious pros in the constant evaluation between your old and new lives. You have almost stopped thinking about whether you made the right choice.

The start of your new life in the palace was rocky, but when Ardyn came by to see how you were doing on your third day, magically everything became easier. Your boss turned more forgiving and coworkers friendlier. Funny.

After three months everybody seems to have forgotten about your ill past, but not you.

While technically you’re a stablehand, every once in a while the prince calls on you to accompany him to the city – you are his trusted tour guide after all. He makes a habit of taking as few people with him as he can get away with. You make sure he leaves the palace in proper clothing that allows him to blend in to the crowd instead of sticking out like the royal dolt he is.

It dawned really quickly on you that on your first meeting, Ardyn had left the palace unattended by his own permission. You still threaten to rat him out to the king whenever his teasing becomes insufferable. Usually it only leads to him teasing you more.

Time flows forward fast, and you realize that you and Ardyn – a thief and a prince – have become unlikely fast friends. Who could’ve guessed?

It’s a regular occurrence to find him already waiting in your room after your work day. Since he has “nothing better to do” than come to complain that you smell like chocobos. Despite his jesting, you know Ardyn loves his own bird – black as the darkest night, stubborn as the Infernian and so gorgeous that you want to cry every time you preen his feathers.

Ardyn and his younger brother Somnus – who you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting – have riding lessons every week and you always make sure to have something to do nearby so you can sneakily watch. You’ve been too afraid to ask, but you wish that one day you could go for a chocobo ride.

“He is so beautiful,” another servant girl sighs while you rake the yard and the brothers are in the manège.

You glance at Ardyn and then at the chocobo. While you’re not entirely sure which one she meant, you just agree with a hum.

“You’re so lucky to know him personally.”

So she meant _that_ one. Figures.

“Uh-huh. He’s not that great, to be honest,” you say just when Ardyn rides past you. You try to look like you’re working so hard and are too busy to notice him.

Your colleague stares after the prince without shame and sighs dreamily again. You roll your eyes so hard that it’s a miracle you don’t sprain an extraocular muscle. At first she was careful around you since you’re acquainted with Ardyn, but after it came apparent your relationship is just friendly, she hasn’t been hiding her infatuation anymore.

It’s already late when you finish all tasks at the stables and are free to leave. Seeing the door to your room open doesn’t even surprise you anymore. Ardyn has been coming to see you more often recently while your trips to town have been rare. You used to go every week, but it’s been almost a month since the last time. Part of you misses the hustle and bustle of the city, the smells of the bazaar and the greasy street food.

“Good evening,” Ardyn greets you absent-mindedly when you close the door. He is focused on a book. It’s a really common sight to find him reading while he waits for you.

“Evening,” you say and leave your work jacket and boots by the door.

Ardyn doesn’t raise his gaze from the book. He looks really out of place in your small accommodation: finest garments in contrast to the shabby furniture. He wanted to get you new ones right after you moved in, but you deftly refused and told him you would replace them one by one with your own earnings. Not like you had anything better to spend your money on.

“So, what brings you here?” you inquire and flop onto the bed. It’s the only soft place to sit in the room. It’s quite hilarious actually how Ardyn always avoids it like it would contact him with a disease. You’ve come to the conclusion that he thinks it’s improper to go anywhere near a lady’s bedstead.

Ardyn shuts the book theatrically and places it on the side table. He usually just leaves a book or two at your place. Once you tried reading one of them, but it was way too difficult for you to understand and since reading is not your forte, perhaps due to lack of practice, it was slow and painful so you gave up. Sometimes Ardyn would read paragraphs out loud for you and it’s much more interesting that way, listening to his deep voice flow like rich honey. You have come to the conclusion that he is good at reading. Really good.

His amber eyes inspect you for a moment. You raise your brows, encouraging him to speak.

“I came to ask would you like to join me for a glass of wine under the full moon.”

Your heart jumps and begins to circulate blood faster. Ardyn has a way of presenting such loaded themes in an infuriatingly casual manner. If anyone else would ask you for such an excursion, you would immediately take it as a romantic.

But you are just friends.

You will your pulse to calm down. The offer hanging in the air is nothing but a pleasant picnic between friends. With a good bottle of wine that surely costs more than your monthly wage, and the abnormally enormous full moon. Probably on the stables’ roof, too, where you won’t be disturbed.

Nothing special in that. It’s not the first time he has taken you out to be spoiled – it’s just another normal day to him.

“Is that a question, then?” you ask warily. It didn’t sound like one.

Ardyn’s lips curl into the smile you’ve learned to not like. Seems that your thoughts are running in the right direction from his point of view.

“Well yes, I suppose it is, but since I’m ‘ _not that great…_ ’” He looks insufferably smug as he loads the line to your face.

You groan out loud and jump up from the bed. Of course he heard that. Of course he tries to make you act contrite even when he knows you were downplaying your opinion of him on purpose. It wouldn’t do well for you to advertise your friendship with the prince to your lovesick colleague.

You cut to the chase. “You’re kidding, right? I’ll meet you outside after I clean myself up,” you say, “I wouldn’t mind if you also have something to eat.”

Ardyn scoffs and laughs at your direct approach. In the months you have known each other, you’ve learned to block and dodge his games and mischief by just overruling them. You don’t go along with his antics or spare his feelings. Sometimes it irks him, but on most times he is just pleased. It makes everything only so much more interesting.

“As you wish,” Ardyn complies and stands up.

Your place is small and there is no room to change clothes in private with him around, so you wait for the door to shut before hastily starting to go over your wardrobe. You might smell a bit of chocobos, but hey, that is a part of your charm now.

The nights are cool, so you are forced to only throw longing gazes at your new dress. It’s dark outside and you will be alone with Ardyn so there is no need to dress up. You choose a simple tunic with loose harem pants made of soft fabric. Before heading out you make sure there is nothing sticking out of your hair and grab a shawl along just in case.

Ardyn is standing outside, enjoying the unbelievably bright moonlight. He is holding a small basket that is hopefully filled with some goodies made with lots of sugar and butter. There are no clouds in the starry sky, but a gentle breeze makes his auburn strands dance in the air. Even in the casual clothes (by royal standards) he looks regal and unapproachable by mere mortals.

“Sorry to make you wait.”

You take his arm without hesitation. Telling your heart to calm down doesn’t help, so you try your best to ignore the strong beats in your ears. It’s just Ardyn and you’ve been in a similar situation numerous times already. This one is no different.

The yearning looks your coworker sent after the prince play in your memory and you bite your lip to shake it off.

“How was your day?” you ask, determined to reach your usual comfortable level of ongoing conversation. You’re heading towards the stables which lie a short distance away between a meadow and an open field where the chocobos can enjoy the fresh air. For the night they’re in their comfy pens inside the stables.

Ardyn hums in thought and smiles. “There was a lady watching our riding lesson today. I wish I would’ve had the chance to ask her name.”

As you see it, half of the palace servants are secretly pining after either of the princes, or both. You make a loud gagging noise and Ardyn scoffs at your crude behavior.

“I’m sure she would be delighted to share her name with you. Along with anything else you can think to ask for,” you retort and make a disgusted face.

“Oh, please. What kind of man do you think I am?” Ardyn questions in a serious tone, but his amusement shines through.

“ _A man_ ,” you reply and change the topic: “I was thinking today that I could go to the city on my next day off. It’s been a while and I would very much like to visit that dress shop again.” The latter sentence is a bit of an accidental blurt and it makes Ardyn shoot his brows up and look at you.

“What?” you ask, painfully aware of how much dress shopping doesn’t suit your character.

“In that case, I would _very much_ like to join you,” Ardyn coos. He is making fun of you again and that demands for retaliation.

“Ardyn Lucis Caelum, don’t you dare laugh at me. I’m moving up in life.” It’s hard to contain the laughter from your voice.

“I know, dear.” He beams at you. “I’m proud of your progress.”

“Mm. Maybe soon I’ll meet a nice, handsome noble man who will sweep me off my feet. An insanely rich one, mind you,” you jest.

“And here I thought your social life peaked when you met me,” Ardyn says calmly.

“Don’t push your luck.”

You pat his arm locked with yours and instantly pull back the hand; a jolt of electricity travels through your body. It sends your nerves alight and you become increasingly conscious of your every motion and Ardyn’s body next to you.

“You wound me, darling,” he says like nothing happened.

He felt it too. He definitely felt it judging by the way his eyes suddenly avoid yours, though it doesn’t slow his mouth. You want to let go of his arm, but you don’t want to emphasize the feeling that is sparking inside you.

The stables are right ahead. You draw in a calming breath.

“W-where is the ladder?” you splutter when you realize you can’t see them in their usual spot.

“How inconvenient,” Ardyn mumbles.

You spend a moment looking around, but to no avail. Everything is calm and silent; just the chocobos are occasionally ruffling in their sleep. You wreck your memory, but can’t remember the last time you saw the ladder.

“Should we find another spot then?” you suggest dismayed. The stables are in an open area with nothing to obstruct the view of the sky. It’s also the most peaceful building in the palace grounds during the night. The smell of chocobos is a slight con, but you’re used to it.

“Ardyn, what are you doing?” you ask when he comes over to you with a batch of rope and a chocobo preening brush. He ties one end to the basket handle and the other end to the brush. Then he throws the brush to the roof.

“I see. So how are _we_ going to get up there?” You nod towards the rooftop.

Ardyn extends his hand to you. “Do you trust me?”

You snort. “Not really.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re ruining the mood, my dear.”

Pleasant tingles fall down your spine.

“Urgh. Fine.”

You take his hand and without a warning he pulls you close to his chest. A hot flush rises to your cheeks as you are pressed against him, a strong arm around you. He smells nice. Nicer than the chocobos at least.

Before you can demonstrate your disapproval of the situation, Ardyn summons a dagger in flash of blue embers and your eyes widen.

“A-Ardyn, what–”

He tosses the blade to the roof in a lazy arc and you scream because of the quickly following sensation of your navel being pulled backwards. Your intestines are turning upside down. Your brain loses the information on the direction of the ground and it sends your head spinning into the night.

You’re clutching to Ardyn’s clothes like your life depends on it. He is shaking from restrained laughter and the need to puke blurs your vision momentarily.

You’re on the stable roof under the bright, large moon.

“Take it easy. It’ll pass soon,” Ardyn says softly and massages your back gently.

You are definitely going to spew on him, just for revenge. Your hands are shaking, but you force the nausea away and take a wobbly step back. Experiencing the magic of the royal family first hand is not a pleasant experience for a first timer. You’ve only seen it once before, but after making Ardyn explain himself, you know what he just did is related to that.

Ardyn has a crooked smile on his lips as he examines your slightly pale complexion.

You shake your finger on his face. “Don’t ever, _ever,_ do that again.”

“I apologize. You did well, however,” he utters and takes your shaking hand. He guides you to sit down and goes to fetch the basket by pulling it up from the rope.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” Even your voice is trembling, but you already feel slightly better. And your condition improves quickly after Ardyn lifts the cover on the basket. In addition to the wine, he has brought your favorite treats and all is forgiven once again.

“I’m glad I have you to remind me of that,” he chuckles and starts pouring wine into two glasses.

“The moon is so big,” you sigh after the first sip. The mellow taste rolls on your tongue. It’s the third wine you have tasted in your life. There was no sense in wasting your time with anything containing alcohol before – it was another important life lesson learned in the streets.

Ardyn watches your reaction before tasting from his own glass. “Yes, it’s a beautiful night,” he remarks, visibly satisfied with the choice of drink. There was a reason for choosing that particular bottle: It’s as rare and special as his company tonight.

You sit on the shawl, sipping wine, munching the small cakes and bread rolls, and chat mostly about the chocobos sleeping beneath you.

“Do you like it here?” Ardyn suddenly inquires before lifting the half-empty wine glass to his lips.

“Mm,” you shrug and grin, “I guess I do. The company is a bit lacking, but I’ll manage.”

Ardyn smirks into his glass.

“You’ve adapted well to the life in the palace. Truth be told, I was slightly worried,” he says.

“Hey, I’m the master of adaptation,” you remind him, “It’s an important skill for a pickpocket.”

Ardyn doesn’t reply and with the sudden pause in conversation, you feel like it’s about time to tell him the truth. You would never go back to the way things were in the city.

You clear your throat to draw his attention.

“My life before _this_ was just struggle after struggle. So… I guess I… I am thanking you.” You offer him a careful smile. It’s hard to admit your feelings. Saying the words aloud makes you feel vulnerable, like exposing a weak spot on your body.

Ardyn smiles back to you, pleasantly surprised. “I’m curious, however: Was it easy to leave all that behind?” he asks in a solemn tone.

You chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? I might have been a thief, but I didn’t do that just for the thrill of it.”

“I take it you were still good at what you were doing,” Ardyn says, “You were never caught.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I _could_ brag about it.” The wine is making your mind pleasantly buzzed and it feels so surreal to sit there on top of the royal stables and talk about your old stealing habits with the prince. “I know some people who are a lot better than me, though.”

There is a familiar, almost mischievous glint in Ardyn’s eyes.

“But, _you_ pulled the heist of the century.”

 A block of ice sinks into your stomach and you freeze.

Is this why he brought the subject up? You didn’t take anything in the palace accidentally, did you? What if he kicks you out? This is not how you imagined it would end. You need to make him understand you would never do that to him. You promised to behave. You–

“Ardyn, I _swear_ I didn’t–”

He presses a finger onto your lips.

The block of ice melts at the touch as a rush of warmth whooshes through you. Your stomach feels nauseatingly light and you can’t stop quivering. Any and all explanations, pleas and defenses escape from your mind. Ardyn is right in front of you and suddenly he feels to be radiating heat. The proximity is heady and it’s making you sick, but you can’t nor want to move lest his touch would leave your lips.

Your throat is dry as you anxiously wait for an explanation. His expression contains no hint of anger or disappointment. He looks… gentle, even slightly amused by your reaction.

The finger trails down under your chin. You don’t dare to breathe.

“You stole my heart,” he says softly, simply.

Your brain jams. All thoughts flood behind a dam that doesn’t let anything leak into your conscious mind. The warm feeling envelops every inch of you only for a second until it starts to burn.

You don’t think before Ardyn’s back hits the rooftop and your fingers tangle into his hair. You’ve wanted to do that ever since the first time you saw him. His breaths are hot on your skin and the last bit of distance between your lips is conquered when he pulls you down, hands on both sides of your face.

It is most definitely not what you had in mind for the evening, or your relationship, but with each fervent kiss you realize it has been long since coming. You have wanted it to happen, but not even in your most secret reveries have you dared to dream about it.

Out of breath, you kiss him lightly once, twice, and pull back to see his face. You already lost count on how many times you have kissed him now.

Ardyn caresses your cheek and he is smiling like you have never seen before. He looks so pale in the dim white light of the moon, almost ethereal, but happier than you have ever seen him.

“Am I enough?” you ask quietly, fingers trailing his features. You have wanted to touch him like this for ages, to feel his cheekbones, jawline and lips with your fingertips. That is like you have always been: Anything you’re only supposed to look at, you want to touch.

“Sometimes, you’re too much,” Ardyn replies without hesitation, “Even for me.”

You let out a light laugh and perish all thoughts about having the crown prince between your thighs. You lie down beside him, but just as you’re about to lower your leg off him, Ardyn grabs it and pulls it back up along with your body flush against him. Hot cheeks become the least of your problems when he kisses you so that your head starts to spin.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you say quietly as soon as you’re free to speak again. Your gaze never leaves the amber eyes before you. Your heart aches at the closeness. What did you do to earn this fortune?

“And yet, here we are.” It is astonishing how calm Ardyn’s tone is, but there is a fire burning in his eyes. It’s the same fire you feel pulsing inside you, begging to be quenched.

“I came here for the wine,” you smirk, trying to dissipate the heady mood.

Ardyn rolls his eyes and regains a bit of his self-discipline as he lets go of your leg. “Always with the food.” He shakes his head in good nature.

“Try being hungry for twenty years,” you quip in your defense, “This place is heaven for someone like me.”

“Oh? Because I’m an angel?” Ardyn grins.

A part of you wants to slap him. Maybe even the majority. He saw the chance and he took it, just like he always does and that annoys you to no end. Do you really want to have your happily ever after with someone like that?

Yes, you do.

“A very cheesy angel who always brings me good food,” you say instead of the violent approach and rise to sit up. You fan your flushed face with your hands. “An angel who… who gave me a new life.”

Ardyn shrugs nonchalantly and pours another drink for you.

“To a new life, then?” he suggests and offers the glass to you.

Your fingers brush as you accept it. “To a new life.”

The glasses clink softly together and the warmth swelling inside you has nothing to do with the wine.


End file.
